Whisper Marsh One Push is All You'll Need

@Greer sorry it took me so long to get it up -.-;
- Making it aw in case any WC wolves want to join in as well ;)

"you'll never be great without taking a chance" ORREN BARANSKI This was dangerous territory, the cavern pack lay only a little to the south, and surely this was part of their hunting grounds. But it was not marked land, no borders claiming it, which meant Orren had every right to be here; It's as close to us as it is to THEM! Besides, he doubted anyone would be out hunting today; the ground was uneven and slick, the wetlands still frozen in the last claws of winter, and one of the thick, icy fogs that had plagued the boy's first winter was hanging over it. He could hardly see two strides ahead, but that didn't deter him from continuing his brisk trek, paws moving incredibly securely over the rough ground. This was the shortest route to Willow Ridge, and if he wanted to get there and back before his breakout was discovered, he couldn't waste any time on detours. Once again, the younger Baranski son had gotten too tired of his homeland to keep to the Cedarwood, his longing for adventure driving him from the territory of Cut Rock River, and out into the world beyond. And he had known where to go as soon as he left; he was intent on adventure, and he was not gonna chase it alone! Hopefully @Deacon would welcome him, and the opportunity to explore with another daredevil. He missed his dark comrade! I just hope he's home..! There was an excited grin on the black saddled lad's face as he marched on, pumpkin eyes ablaze with the thrill of defying the rules and exploring new lands. Word count: 263 Thoughts ”Speech”

Dawnthieves.de

(This post was last modified: May 12, 2015, 03:30 PM by Orren.)

PLOT WITH ME!

I AM SO SORRY, I did not notice this at all. :((((( <3

As his confidence was returning Greer found himself venturing further from home for extended periods of time. Since Deacon had decided to leave and Castiel had disappeard the Ridge was feeling less and less like home. The raven prince did not like spending time in the empty den; he missed the comforting scents of his kin. He had always sought out solitude, and now that he was able to be alone all the time it was an uncomforting feeling. Although he still preferred being by himself, he missed having access to an available playmate when he wanted company.

A frown creased his slender maw as he ventured away from the safety of the willows; he was attempting to follow the trail of one his brother’s once more, but as each day passed the scents were growing faint. He hoped that would bump into Deacon soon – he was curious as to how the rest of the Lore was treating him. Had he found another pack to call home? How many new wolves had he met on his explorations? It was strange to think that his brothers were living a life away from both him and their parents… did they miss him as much as he missed them?

His slender legs carried him quickly through the marsh; he was growing tiresome of the bordering territories. He wanted to go further, but Greer knew that he could not leave without first speaking to his parents. The smudge refused to put his mother through any more stress; she had already experienced enough when he had disappeared in the snow.

An unfamiliar scent caught his attention, ripping him away from his thoughts as his silver eyes narrowing as they sought out the stranger. A young wolf, probably from last year’s breeding season as well, who carried a pack scent that Greer did not recognize. Instinctively he lowered his belly to the ground in an attempt to hide his dark body in the foliage as he stalked closer. The stranger seemed to be on a mission – he walked with purpose, strutting forward through the marsh. His curiosity grew, but he did not allow himself to be seen; instead he followed, his movements slow and carefully calculated as he tried to make as little sound as possible. It seemed stalking was Greer’s new favourite game.

No worries, i figured that's what happened :)

"you'll never be great without taking a chance" ORREN BARANSKI The fog couldn't deter him, neither could the cold, or the ice beneath his paws, he was a hunter, he was a prince of The River! With glowing, marigold eyes, Orren made his way through the reeds of the marsh, tail waving high behind him. He was euphoric, his escape making giddy energy surge through his veins, this was the part his siblings couldn't understand - or at least Aleksei couldn't - the rush, the adventure! The copper pelted boy grinned to himself, nostrils flaring in the fresh, cold air. That's when he caught the first whiff of scent and paused, one paw lifted in mid-stride. Ears swiveling in search of sounds, the mottled lad scanned the area with wide eyes, trying his hardest to see anything through the fog. He recognized the smell, which was now steadily filling his nose, its familiarity making his frozen tail resume its joyful wagging. Eyes now narrowed, Orren continued his hunt for the other, a widening grin on his face. Did he see something there, crouching in the grass? Dark fur... "Deacon?!" The river prince called excitedly. Had he really been so lucky, that his friend had chosen to pay him a visit on this very day? Orren started dancing eagerly on the spot, waiting for the response. There was no doubt about it: that was the scent of Willow Ridge, and it was so like Deacons that it couldn't possibly be anyone else! And yet, there was something odd, something different from what the Baranski remembered, but it was so faint, he didn't bother with it. Word count: 264 Thoughts ”Speech”

Dawnthieves.de

PLOT WITH ME!

Summer can’t come soon enough, he thought numbly to himself as his slender body maneuvered through the chilled fog, his toes slipping through the muddy marsh. Despite his discomfort, he did not stray from his path. He had gotten eerily good at following others, a skill of his that he was particularly fond of. However, he seemed to misjudge his positon and his scent had wafted into the stranger’s direction, causing the pup’s ears to perk instantly. He mentally cursed at himself for his neglecting something so significant. He ceased his movement and instantly lowered himself to the ground, his dark belly fur grazing the damp foliage.

It was too late; now that he had been spotted, the other wasn’t going to leave him alone. It was how it always happened. Some wolves did not understand that others preferred to lurk in the shadows and be ignored.

However, the single word that dropped from the stranger’s maw changed his mind on avoiding conversation with the other boy. Deacon? The River wolf had called out, his voice sounding hopeful as it pierced the fog. Without a second thought, the slender boy pushed his body away from the ground, his silver orbs seeking out the tawny boy. “Know brother?” He called back in response as he took a few hesitant steps forward, his eyes widening as the unfamiliar feeling of excitement consumed him. Sometimes Greer wished that he possessed the same charisma as his brother, but he preferred his solitude over interacting with others. He was born into the shadows and only felt true comfort when he lingered in its grasp.

"You'll never be great without taking a chance" ORREN BARANSKI A shadow appeared out of the tall grass, legs seeming to stretch forever before finally settling the stranger at a decent height. His fur was jet black, silhouette standing out clearly against the white fog and though his height was similar to that of the Baranski, his proportions were very different, slender legs supporting a narrow chest on a shorter body as opposed to the other boy's more boxy, robust frame. Definitely not Deacon..! Orren thought, surprised, orange eyes wide as he stared at the other pup. He was the same age, clearly, and he smelled the same; Well almost the same... That little difference became more and more apparent now. The fur was different too, darker and without the golden and silver accents. Then the boy spoke, two, hushed words and suddenly everything clicked; Brother, OFCOURSE! The scent of Willow Ridge, and of Deacon and his parents, and their last brother; Deacon had spoken of his siblings. Getting control of his staggered expression, Orren offered the black lad a warm smile, tail waving energetically behind him. Now that he'd realized the truth, he could see the similarities between the two Archer-Layall's, though there might be many differences at first glance, many small details were in common between the brothers; Is it the same with me and Aleksei..? The river prince wondered absently. He wasn't overly fond of that idea, looking like his brother, but on the other hand, looking more like Alek would mean looking more like his father, and Orren didn't mind that as much. Blinking, he sought to meet the other youth's eyes, surprised to find them a clear silver, seemingly underlining the differences between this boy and his brother. "You're Deacon's brother?" The Baranski said, more of a statement than a question, though he did expect an answer. Then, in a sudden fit of clarity, it occurred to the lively lad to not base this interaction on what he knew of Deacon; he certainly wouldn't like it if someone treated him like Aleksei. So, bowing his head politely, he attempted to address the boy, wiping a clean slate; "It's nice to meet you. I am Orren Baranski of Cut Rock River, you?" He tilted his head, looking attentively at the other with an open, curious expression; He never DID tell me much about them... He pondered, remembering his meeting with the other Ridge pup. So maybe it wouldn't be so hard to think of this boy as a new acquaintance. Word count: 414 Thoughts ”Speech”

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PLOT WITH ME!

If he had been Deacon a flurry of words would have fallen from his tongue as he closed the gap between himself and the stranger. Although he knew that they were blood, the two brothers could not be more different from each other. Where Deacon was extroverted and enjoyed the company of others, Greer preferred his solitude and avoided most (if not all) conversation. When they had been younger the silver-eyed prince was reluctant to join his brothers in play, and instead pursued his own adventures. Deacon, like the typical first-born, was a natural leader, whereas Greer would rather hide in the shadows. If it had not been for their dark coats, it would be impossible to know that the two were brothers if information about their parents was unknown.

“Yes. I Greer,” he introduced with a short nod after Orren’s introduction as a hesitant smile fumbled onto his dark lips. Sometimes the slender prince wished he was completely mute – he hated his broken speech, and although he knew the only thing that would fix it was using his voice more, Greer refused to. Cut Rock River. He had heard the name mentioned in the Ridge before, but he could not remember why. “Where River?” He asked with a tilt of his head as his gaze narrowed on the sparrow-coloured boy, his curiosity growing by the second. The smudge liked learning about the neighbouring packs – he was curious as to which ones were friends, and which ones were to be avoided. Deacon had left to pursue a different pack; Greer couldn’t help but wonder if there was a pack better suited for him.

"You'll never be great without taking a chance" ORREN BARANSKI The dark boy found a smile of his own, nodding back at Orren and giving a confirming answer. That much at least, the River prince understood, but the addition gave him pause. In the black lad's abridged speech, Orren didn't realize that the word he had spoken was his name. The brighter male furrowed his brows, head tilting as he tried to understand what the other was trying to say; Is he hurt..? The sound could have been an exclamation of pain, though the boy didn't seem to be wounded or looked sick or hurt in any way; he also hadn't yelled it, or moaned in a way suggesting he was in pain. So what then..? At last, the copper tinted boy simply stared into his new acquaintance's silver eyes, an almost apologetic look in his own, wide embers. The Ridge pup had more to say though, tilting his own head and offering a question. It was when Orren heard the simplified way he asked, that he put the pieces together; "Oh!" He exclaimed, grin returning as he enjoyed his realization; "Your name is Grur!" He said excitedly, doing his best to reproduce the sound that he now understood to be the other prince's name. His tail wagged enthusiastically, the frustration of not understanding now gone, and he moved on swiftly to answer the question; "Cut Rock River lies west of here, in Cedarwood Forest not too far away!" He gestured with his black-crowned head towards his home, then went silent, waiting to see if the boy had understood everything he'd said. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with the other pup, since he spoke like a 5 week old, despite being the same age as Orren. The Baranski knew little of the ailments that could afflict wolves - other than physical injuries, of which he'd already known many - that was Karina's field; maybe his observant sister would know what was wrong with Greer; He doesn't look like he's sick... As he had previously noted, the two almost-yearlings were of the same height, and though the ebony lad was more slender, and therefore even more gangly looking than Orren himself, he seemed properly developed. The multicolored boy shook his head lightly, whatever it was, there was nothing any of them could do about it, he figured, if it was treatable one of Willow Ridge's healers would surely have taken care of it. And now that the first confusion was over with, Orren was sure they would manage just fine despite of it. Word count: 427 Thoughts ”Speech”

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PLOT WITH ME!

Although he preferred to stay away from conversation, Greer sometimes wished that he possessed the same social skills that his brothers (and every other wolf, ever) had. The spider-legged boy never knew what to say, or how to respond in a way that the conversation would continue. It made him feel awkward and dumb, and Greer hated feeling dumb. It did not help that his speech was severely lacking compared to other wolves his age, which was a result of his frequent desire to be alone and to keep his voice to himself. He knew that, with time, his speech would improve, but it he felt incredibly self-conscious whenever he spoke to others. This feeling only increased when they acknowledged it, whether it was on purpose or not.

His ears flicked back as Orren repeated his name after it had taken the boy a moment to realize that Greer had introduced himself. Lips tightened instinctively as he observed the sparrow-coloured boy as he began speaking once more, answering Greer’s question excitedly. The mention of the forest intrigued the Ridge prince as he was particularly fond of disappearing in the shadows of the trees. He made a mental note of the name and location for future travels; perhaps Cut Rock would be a potential future home for the silent boy. “Orren meet D there?” He asked with a tilt of his head; he had focused more on his words, hoping that this attempt would be more structured than his previous ones. The concerned look that came from Orren’s gaze made the little shadow uncomfortable and him feel as though something was wrong with him, even though he knew there wasn’t.

"You'll never be great without taking a chance" ORREN BARANSKI Orren had never been the overly perceptive sort, his jaunty nature not just extrovert, but brash and even selfish to an extent. He wasn't mean spirited though, his temper often made him lash out towards his family, but in his heart he was good. That was how, standing one on one like this, the River prince noticed the change in his opposing age mate, though he wasn't immediately sure of the reason.  He was still looking at Greer with curious eyes, not even imagining that his stare could be the issue, after all, despite his frequent attempts at escapes for adventure, the boy had lived a very sheltered life and his experiences with disability, or any sort of abnormality, were limited. There was @Karina though. And suddenly it hit him: like his sister's weak eyes, the strange speech patterns of this, gangly boy might just be a particular oddity of nature, something setting him apart from others, but not necessarily behind; Karina's sight might be bad, but her sense of smell is brilliant! In other words, his way of thinking wasn't right, there wasn't something wrong with the ebony lad; Just different! He also remembered that, though he'd never teased his sister with her diminished sight, even mentioning it made her uncomfortable, so he had learned from an early age never to do so. Even for the mischievous middle brother, there was a line, and that was it! So when Greer asked his question, Orren made an effort not to stare, and quickly answered in his enthusiastic manner; "Oh no, I met Deacon last winter when I wandered to the Willows on one of my trips!" He puffed out his chest a bit at the remark, playing up his adventures like they were everyday occurrences; he couldn't resist the temptation. "Actually I was on my way to visit him now, how is he?!" He continued, tail waving excitedly behind his back. As he talked he kept glancing around, orange eyes darting to his paws, the surroundings, the trees in the distance and then back to Greer, all in an attempt to not make the boy feel uncomfortable. To say that he overdid it would be an understatement, but he meant well, he didn't want the dark Ridge wolf to feel different; I know all too well what that's like... Word count: 389 Thoughts ”Speech”

Dawnthieves.de

PLOT WITH ME!

I am so sorry for the wait! <3

Despite the sparrow coloured youth before him being so different than he was, Greer found himself enjoying Orren’s company. The River pup reminded him of his brother – he was much more talkative than the silver-eyed smudge, and radiated such an infectious positive energy that it was nearly impossible to be sad around him. It was almost annoying how upbeat the boy was, but the more Greer likened him to Deacon the more he enjoyed the company (which was difficult for him to accept). The spider-legged youth would always prefer to be on his own, but for now the temporary company was welcome – perhaps he would even find himself seeking out Orren in the future… The thought paralyzed him -- oh no, what was happening to him? He gave his thoughts a quick mental shake to rid himself of the idea before returning his focus to the youth as he began to answer Greer’s question.

‘… on one of my trips!’ A seasoned adventurer? His curiosity increased at the boy’s words, but his tongue remained still. Greer also tried to explore as much as he could, but after his near brush with death the shadow prince had been lingering close to the Ridge borders while the snow had melted. However, now that summer was on the horizon, Greer had found himself venturing further away from his home as the days grew longer. He, too, sought out the same thing that had driven Deacon to leave their birthplace, but he was still unsure of when to act upon his desires.

His thoughts were muted as Orren addressed him once more, this time with a question – about Deacon. The boy’s excitement was obvious as he asked about his brother’s well-being; Greer’s mouth grew bitter with guilt as he hesitated on breaking the news. “D good. I think. Don’t know where D went. Wanted new home,” he explained with a deep frown, his silver eyes downcast as they avoided Orren’s bouncing figure. The smudge had been disappointed to find out that the boy before him had not heard from his brother – the search was becoming more and more difficult.

(This post was last modified: May 28, 2015, 06:56 AM by Greer.)